


Family business

by Pilux



Category: World of Warcraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-26 07:33:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13853010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pilux/pseuds/Pilux
Summary: Deathwing paying his son a quick visit and getting -rudely- interrupted.





	Family business

**Author's Note:**

> Muse prompt from le tumblr, where I was asked to pick a muse other than Khadgar to write with. I opted for Deathwing with a bonus Nefarian.   
> P.S if someone understands how to get text to properly format on here please tell me oh god I'm old and don't understand.

Deathwing’s massive body was too large for the ledge on Blackrock Mountain for him to land safely. Instead, he opted for landing in front of the bridge that leads into the mountain. The ground shook as his claws touched the burned soil, and a moment later, he had shifted into a much smaller, human looking form. He would have to take the long way in to see his son, an annoyance to be sure, but unavoidable. Anyone who still remained in the mountain was quick to hide and avoid the Aspect of Death.  
  
Nefarian was lazing about on a chair, not having noticed his father entering the room carved from stone, filled with Dwarven furniture and items. In his defense, he had his head buried in the insane scribblings of Maloriak. He was muttering out loud, lost in his own world.  
  
“Time forever on my side and he doesn’t see the importance of the circles of having such things forever aiding me, no one understands the flat circles that bind us all to a -”  
  
He was interrupted by Deathwing snatching the papers from his hands. Nefarian quickly scrambled to his feet, smoothing his robes down.  
  
“Forgive me, Father, I didn’t hear you walk in.”  
  
“That is  _obvious.”_ Deathwing snorted as he gave the papers a cursory glance. Mostly mad ramblings from an experiment that almost failed. But there were hints of sanity here and there. Well, sanity was a term to be loosely used here.  
He glanced up in time to catch Nefarian scratching at the stitching along his neck. A low growl formed in Deathwing’s throat.  
  
“STOP your fidgeting, lest you lose your head AGAIN.” He quickly snatched his son’s hand in mid-scratch and pulled it away. Nefarian squirmed uncomfortably.  
  
“But it -itches-.” There was a hint of a whine in his voice, which left his father unimpressed. He squeezed his son’s hand, staring into Nefarian’s eyes with cold anger.  
  
“I think, ‘Thank you’, are the words you are  _looking for.”_  
  
“Well of course Father. I thanked you when you raised me, and again every time you are here, don’t I? How much more do you need to -”  
  
“I am NOT in the MOOD.” The mountain shook with Deathwing’s anger rising, resulting in some stone dust and bits of rock falling from the ceiling. Nefarian glanced up to make sure the whole room wasn’t going to collapse, and Deathwing released his son’s hand to quickly brush the dirt from his armor. He sneered in disgust at the dust and was not satisfied until every speck of it was off of him.  
  
“I’ve come to see how your sister is coming along.” He snorted as if just arriving. Nefarian stared blankly for a moment as he tried to come up with an answer.  
  
“She’s a process. A long, process of being a pain in my NECK-” He reached to scratch the stitches again, but stopped when Deathwing twitched in anticipation to grab his hand again. The awkward silence was broken by Maloriak crying out from elsewhere in the labyrinth of rooms and halls. Adventurers had broken in and were causing havoc as per usual. With a snarl, Nefarian began to waltz out of the room only to be held back by his Father.  
“Allow. Me.”   
  
They hadn’t realized the Aspect of Death was paying his son a visit.  
  
And they didn’t have much time to react.  
  
Although the area was too small for Deathwing to take his full form, he was still powerful and made quick work of the would-be-heroes. He made sure their deaths were painful, he made sure their deaths were slow. Except for one.  
  
A paladin, praying to the light under his breath was trying to crawl away from the burned and charred corpses of his party. Deathwing swiftly waltzed over, stepping delicately over the bodies - as to not sully his boots - and quickly snatched the Paladin up by the neck.  
  
“You know, Paladin. It’s very rude to break into the homes of others.” The Paladin squirmed, eyes wide, unable to say anything but prayers to the light.  
Nefarian watched on as his father set the Paladin down, gently wiping dirt off of the shining golden armor.   
“Tsk- blood. That will be harder to get out. Your leg looks injured too, you should heal that when you have a chance.”  
The paladin didn’t know how to respond and simply quivered in fear from the personalized attention from Deathwing. He leaned down, getting into the Paladin’s face as his own curled up into an angry snarl.  
“When you get back - yes I’m letting you go-, remind your fellow light leeches that the best place for you mortals is being… Out. Of. My. Way.” He pinched the Paladin’s cheek before giving it a gentle pap. The paladin stood in stunned silence for a moment before fleeing.  Deathwing watched him go, before turning to the corpses. Wrinkling his nose, he ordered his son to kick the bodies over the edge and into the Lava. As he didn’t want to get his boots dirty.  
  
“Why let the Paladin go? It could have made a great test subject.”  
Deathwing adjusted his gauntlets and inspected himself for dirt.  
  
“He can’t out-run me on a Horse or Gryphon if I’m flying. I want to see where he goes,  _and then I’m going to destroy it while the puny, pathetic mortals attempt to flee.”_


End file.
